Addicted
by jensensgirl
Summary: Sam learns more about his brother when they visit someone from his past. Mature content.


ONESHOT

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"Hello?... How long?... Where are you?..." Dean had actually put down his convenient store hot dog for this conversation which had Sam's interest piqued. "Take me a few hours to get there… I'm in Tucson with Sam… yeah… me too…" Dean hung up and got into the Impala starting it immediately. Sam stood outside the car baffled. Dean's two fully loaded hot dogs, bag of Funyuns and 64oz soda sat on the roof, very unDean like. He never forgot food, something had the older Winchester so distracted it stunned his little brother. He bent to look at the driver when the engine revved and shot him a look. Dean shot one back to Sam that said I will leave you if you don't get in now.

"Forgetting something?" Sam asked with a smirk Dean hated.

"Sammy, you have three seconds to get in this car." The tone said he would leave Sam standing there.

"Dean, your food is on the roof." Sam replied still not in the car.

"One…" Dean held up his middle finger. "Two…" he held up both middle fingers.

"Fine, don't complain in five miles when you have no food." Sam said getting into the car. "Where are we going, anyway?" Dean didn't answer just gunned the engine and got on the highway headed west. Sam could read his mind if he wanted too, but he chose to wait, it was fun watching Dean's expressions change. His brother was obviously deep in thought about the call. They drove in silence for another few hours and Sam saw Dean take the highway to Los Angeles. Interesting. "You going to fill me in yet?"

"I need to make a stop." Dean responded and made it obvious that was all he'd get from him. Sam pondered if it was a job that had to do with something or someone from Dean's life or a different type of stop. They headed toward Pacific Palisades and Sam wasn't sure which was more shocking; the scenery or the fact that his brother had been here before. The manicured lawns, pristine homes, shiny new sports cars, the entire setting was so not Dean Winchester, and yet Dean could have made the drive blindfolded. He turned left into a driveway and stopped at the iron gates that had to be 12 feet high and 20 feet wide.

"You going to ring the bell?" Sam asked after a few seconds passed. Just as Dean turned to look at him the huge gates swung open. Sam couldn't see the house from the street, only trees and a brick driveway. What could they possibly be doing there? Who did Dean know and why didn't Sam know about it? Dean could feel his heart start to race; he could feel his body coil at the thought of her. Sam saw the white knuckles on the steering wheel and the distant look on his brother's face. "Dean."

He sat in the driveway remembering her. Remembering them. He was pissed yet again. At what he didn't know, he just was and it was her fault. Why did he jump when she called? Why did he run whenever she asked? Why did he drive to the ends of the earth for her? Dean knew the answers but would never say them to Sam, hell he had a hard time admitting them to himself. He got out of the car and Sam followed. They walked to the massive ornate glass doors and Sam could see how uncomfortable Dean was, he danced in place, cleared his throat and looked around as if on guard. "Dean, what is wrong with you, what is going on?"

"Shut up." Dean answered in his usual way but didn't look at Sam. The door opened and Sam stood there looking shell shocked. His mouth literally fell open.

"Hi, you must be Sam. I've heard a lot about you." She said and put her hand out to shake his.

"Um…hi. Yes. Sam. Hi." He took her small hand in his. He had a hard time looking away from her. He tried all his college words to come up with one to describe her and couldn't. Nothing could describe the staggeringly beautiful woman who lived in this home. Sam was a huge fan, had seen all her movies at least a dozen times each and now he was standing in her doorway. She was not only incredibly gorgeous, but smaller than he expected. She was petite, about 5'2, thick, curly coal black hair that almost shimmered blue, green eyes the color of mints, full pouty pink lips that begged to be kissed and the toned body of a goddess that looked as if it had been blessed lightly by the sun.

"Come in, please." She stepped aside and motioned them toward the living room. She studied Dean's reactions to being back in her home and wondered if he was uncomfortable with his brother here. Sam was not what she expected. Much taller than Dean, dark hair, amazing smile with dimples you wanted to dip your tongue in, soulful eyes that displayed his feelings and he wore clothes that teased and made you curious for what was underneath. She looked at his hands and approved, knew by his forearms the rest of the package was probably just as physically fine tuned. She knew what the tolls were on the body of a hunter; she guessed correctly Sam was just as battered and scarred as Dean.

Sam walked around the expansive room paying attention to the artwork, personal pictures, awards, furniture. He wanted to absorb the moment, the once in a lifetime opportunity to be here. He tuned his ear to his brother's voice out of instinct but he didn't dare look at them. He was still amazed his brother knew her.

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep running every single friggin' time you call. Eight years of this back and forth." His voice barely above a whisper, he couldn't look at her, she was his weakness as much as Sam.

"That's your choice, Dean, not mine. Besides, you never complained before, what's changed?" She asked running her fingertips from his waist to his chest, igniting everything in him.

"I want more than a few nights every few months." He replied and tried to keep control of his voice. _I can't get you out of my head. I can still smell you even after I leave._ He cleared his throat and shook out the haze she put him in. _It's like you're in my skin_. He stepped away from her and had forgotten Sam was in the room. He wanted her, wanted everything about her. He had a second chance and right now that second chance meant a life, not hunting. All his defenses fell and his mind blurred when she was near, his tough exterior crumbled when his eyes met hers. She was so incredible it was almost painful.

"A lot has happened since I saw you and a lot is still going to happen." For the first time Dean looked at her. The emotions swarmed around him and were close to knocking him over. That face haunted his dreams, awake and asleep. He could still feel the way her body molded to his, he could taste her, he knew every inch of her and it hurt him to the core. Fuck, he sounded like a girl.

"I've always told you our relationship was in your hands –" She started and jumped a little when he whirled at her.

"I don't fit in here and you know it." Dean opened his arms wide and took a few steps back when she tried to come to him again. "I can't bring my life into yours, I've told you that. Its too dangerous and I won't risk your life for my own selfish reasons." She was like a drug for him, her mere presence sent off every emotion from love to hate, from adoration to anger, from passion to fury. She had a way of breaking him down, his link to a normal life.

"I follow your lead. If you want to back off and never see me, just say so. If you want more I'd love that." She went to him again, folding into him and trying to show him it was okay to be there, but he pulled away and went to the other side of the room. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair as if he could rub away everything she controlled in him. He wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to hate her. He didn't belong in her world, he was a hunter with barely an education, no home since he was four years old and he lived out of questionable hotels and his car. He had to hustle for money, steal identities for credit cards and cell phones and sometimes went hungry so his brother could eat. She made millions of dollars to play pretend. They were the complete opposite. And completely perfect for eachother.

Dean stood there staring at her. She stared back. Many times she offered to give him money and he hated her for that, hated that she did have money to burn. She had slipped him several thousand dollars before, in his duffle, and she'd sneak in a few new shirts and jeans. Whether or not he needed it, it angered him. But she was right, he chose the hunting over her, he could have this life, the one in front of him instead of the lonely, exhausting and deadly one he had. Sam stared at the both of them wondering if they'd fight or go at eachother on the silk furniture. As if sensing his eyes on her yet never taking hers from Dean, she told Sam, "Make yourself at home. There's plenty to eat in the kitchen, plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms. You can use my office as your office. Pool out back and inside, the theatre is near the kitchen, laundry room centered between the bedrooms upstairs. You have free reign here, Sam." Dean tossed him the keys to the Impala and Sam went to get his bag.

The instant Sam stepped out the front door Dean crossed the room. He crossed the room so fast it startled her and yet she never moved. His hands dug deep in her hair and fisted, his mouth devoured hers. Her whole body exploded and she went up on her toes to get closer to those lips. He tasted like spearmint gum, smelled like sin and felt like a caged animal ready to strike. His muscles were tight under her fingers and she couldn't drink enough from his glorious mouth. She pulled his Henley up and over his head, she needed to touch him, see him, savor all he had. His lips were so soft, his tongue teasing hers, his hands keeping her locked against him. She took a mental note to ask where the scars had gone, but right now all she wanted was him.

Sam walked back into the house and dropped Dean's bag by the door. He glanced into the living room and saw his shirtless brother wrapped around a soon to be shirtless actress. He went upstairs to search for a bedroom and a shower. He didn't think he'd be seeing his brother for awhile so he was pretty much on his own. He chose the bedroom near the laundry room and got started on that chore. Dean more than likely needed laundry too so he may as well bring up his bag later. First a shower, then dinner and probably check out the theatre. He did want to snoop around the house and try to figure out how his brother knew Maxim's sexiest woman alive. Intimately.

When Dean let his hands drift under her tank top, he noticed the thin layer of lace. He knew the matching panties would be found too. He let out a low growl and mustered up all his strength to pull back from her. It was easier to let his hands fall away than to break the kiss. He wanted to be between those legs, buried deep inside her, watching her eyes glaze over when he pleasured her. His mind took him back to all those times he shared her bed. "Sarah…" He could barely speak and the sound of her name on his lips sent lightning straight to her center. She walked out of the room and left him standing there, the next move was his. (I'm addicted, to all things you do, when you're going down on me in between the sheets. All the sounds you make, with every breath you take. It's unlike anything when you're loving me)

Dean stood in the middle of the living room. He really wanted to go upstairs, he really wanted to tell her everything, where he'd been, what's going to happen, take out all his pain and anger on her, but he couldn't. The images and memories were still too fresh to even tell his brother. He hung his head and walked around her house. If he thought back he couldn't remember ever looking around. Sure he'd been in most rooms, but he wasn't exactly paying any attention to his surroundings, couldn't, when she did what she did and the way she did it. He wandered to her office, glanced at the décor, didn't really care. On her bookshelves were photo boxes and he read the neatly printed labels. Each one was labeled with a location and date. One had no label – naturally he chose this one. He sat at her desk in her leather chair and put the box on the desk. Dean rested his elbows on the desk and let himself, for once, think of a life other than hunting.

If this war that was coming ended in his favor, was he right now, right where he wanted to be? He flipped open the lid and pulled out the photos. Not many, maybe a few rolls, but he's momentarily caught of guard when he sees them. The first one is him laying on her bed, facing her, the sheets barely concealing him. Black and white. He looked at the man in the picture; his own face, his own eyes, his own expression; it spoke volumes about what he felt for her. Each picture brought new thoughts of the future and flooded him with memories. He got disgusted with himself and threw the pictures back in the box and shoved it onto the shelf. It was like hell had done something to him and he didn't like it at all. He was not one for emotion or girl moments so he needed to expel that from his body and one way to do that was waiting for him upstairs. He almost bumped into Sam as they passed eachother. "See you tomorrow, Sammy." He yelled back as he bound up the stairs two at a time. Sam headed for the kitchen, Dean headed for the bedroom.

Sam went to the refrigerator and made himself something to eat before looking for her office. He had some research he wanted to do and why not do it in a nice relaxing place. He sat at her desk and opened his laptop, glancing around the room as it booted up. He too spotted the neatly labeled boxes and just like his older brother, Sam pulled out the blank one. Intimate photos of his brother and Sarah, not private photos, just photos of Dean and Sarah together. He noticed how relaxed and happy the older Winchester was and he too could see the way Dean felt about Sarah. And vice versa. Each photo was of a couple completely in love, completely comfortable with eachother. Some photos reflected Dean's departure for that visit, the decision to leave written all over his face, his brother laying on hay in a stable, standing in the rain, lounging on the steps of a porch and Sam found the personal one of Dean in Sarah's bed; the same one his brother had only moments before discovered.

He was surprised at some of the dates. They started while Sam was still in high school and spanned the past 8 years. How did Sam not know about this? How was Dean sneaking away from him when they'd been together damn near every moment of everyday for the previous four years? He reached the last of the photos and one was three days before Dean died. It was so obvious, the turmoil written all over Dean's face. It was a side to Dean Sam didn't know existed. The pain, the emotion, the love.

He opened the doors and found her standing with her back to one of the four posters on her king sized bed. It took everything he had to stand up and not crumble. An old worn out shirt he recognized as his own, only one button strategically fastened, the candles she had lit and the warm glow from them; all of it had a spell on him and she was mesmerizing. The woman before him was solely his. She had said as much when they were together the last time and he knew there would be no other for him; hadn't been in years. Sure Dean played the part to keep up appearances, but upon close inspection, one would notice Dean never 'sealed any deals'.

"Tell me." She whispered. All he did was shake his head. Sarah saw the flicker of remembrance cross his face, saw everything they'd shared run through his mind. Dean went to her, his fingers releasing the button concealing her from his eyes. He let his gaze drift over her, let his body react to hers. He ran the back of his fingers over the swell of her breasts, smirked when he felt her shiver. Sarah tried to touch him only to have her hands locked behind her back with his left. Her body heated under his stare, Dean saw the flush rise to her face. His right hand continued the playful tease along her breasts and he let his fingers drift down the center of her tummy. When he reached the top of her panties and she gasped in response, he brought his hand back up to her neck, angling it so he could focus on her lips.

Dean let his own mouth hover above hers, moving his head from side to side as if he didn't know where to begin. He watched her tongue slip out and wet her lips in anticipation and instinct took over. He grabbed her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it to nourish himself. His grip loosened and her free hands went to his belt. Sarah's fingers dipped into his waistband and he couldn't stop the hiss that escaped. She felt his muscles tighten and it only encouraged her. Her tongue darted out and traced his lips; she couldn't get enough from his mouth. _(Ooh girl lets take it slow, so as for you well you know where to go. I want to take my love and hate you till the end)._

Dean's hands drifted down her sides and reached to cup her ass. He bent ever so slightly so his hands could reach for more, his fingertips brushing against her center, showing him she was ready. He lifted her, Sarah's legs wrapped around him and he moved them to the bed. Dean lowered her slowly and kept her body pressed to his even after her back was against the soft cover. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her like never before. More turbulence than any storm, more devastating than any earthquake, she was otherworldly, an irresistible force. His mouth branded hers and he drunk the whisper of his name when it escaped her parted lips.

Sarah enjoyed the taste and texture of the man above her. The roughness of his hands as they glided along her body, the different ways his mouth tantalized every inch of her skin. She yielded to the power of him, let her body go pliant under his touch, and arched her back when the sensation struck her like lightning. His fingers danced over her without dipping, managed to brush against the very place where she wanted him most. Desire ripped through her blood, sent it racing through her body and she couldn't think of anything but his mouth on hers and his teasing fingers. He broke the kiss, but let his mouth trail to her breasts, giving each one equal attention before moving lower. _(I'm so addicted to all the things  
you do when you're going down on me in between the sheets. All the sounds you make with every breathe you take it's unlike anything when you're loving me)_

Sam searched through her DVD collection and found a few unmarked discs and figuring like the pictures, this may contain information to his brother's connection to Sarah. The first disc was a compilation of her thank you speeches at awards ceremonies. He finally put two and two together. Dean had always wanted to watch the end of the Golden Globes, SAGs and Oscars, when best actress was presented. Each speech, every time, ended the same, "…and lastly I'd like to thank the one person who saved me and showed me another side of life." Each time she spoke those words she held the silver necklace adorning her neck, each time she teared up, each time she kissed two fingers and touched them to her heart. The Golden Globe she'd accepted two weeks before was the latest addition and Sam caught the change to her speech, "…and lastly I'd like to thank the one person who saved me and showed me another side of life. I thank God everyday for bringing you back and I can't wait to see you again." Sarah McCain had been a job, that's how they met, and she knew about Dean's death and his return._  
_  
Dean wanted to possess her as he saw her eyes darken to an even more glorious green, her body shuddering with anticipation. Her body was a banquet of curves, toned muscle and soft liquid skin. She helped him shed his jeans and when he repositioned himself between her legs he saw all he feared and yet wanted reflect back in her eyes. Her arms wrapped around him, fingers digging into his back and she moved to get closer to him. Her silky coal black hair fanned out around her face like a velvet midnight sky and Dean placed his forearm underneath her knee, lifting her leg for better reception.

Sarah bit into his shoulder, her nails dug into his ass as he finally slid deep inside, utterly filling her and her name streamed out with a groan from the back of his throat. They moved slowly as one, savoring the magic they made, the beauty of their bodies glistening in the candlelight. He buried his face in her hair, one arm cradled her head, and the other hand gripped her hip trying to control their movements, prolonging the pleasure, enjoying the feeling of being back in her bed. She made it so hard to breathe when her body rocked against his, answering each thrust with a push of her own. Her body throbbed around him, threatening all, daring him to surrender, the hunger gaining control. Sarah gave him no time to think as she whisked him away from this world. (_all the sounds you make with every breath you take it's unlike anything when you're loving me)_

Dean took her with dazzling speed to heights that made her scream out from unspeakable pleasure. She swore she heard the clap of thunder, the flash of lightning as her head clouded and heart opened wider. She felt the hardness of his arms, the long lean muscles in his legs, the coiled torso, all working together and driven by fantasy. The ache began to build and spread out from her center. "Come with me." He whispered into her mouth and led her as they raced wildly to the finish line. When he looked into her eyes he saw the pools of tears and when she tried to blink them away they fell down her face and into her hair. As he kissed her eyes and moved faster, Sarah let her body fly and cried out with the staggering release as Dean declared his love and poured himself into her. (_I can not make it through all the things you do there's just got to be more to you and me)  
_

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Sam and Dean loaded the Impala with their bags and Sam said his goodbyes to Sarah. He waited in the car as his brother struggled to find the words. Dean looked into her eyes and wiped the tears as they fell. Every time he left it was the same routine, his heart broke and she cried. He'd be back, sooner rather than later, they both felt it. He kissed her, reassuring her, drank from her once more before heading back to the highways and byways. He held her hand tightly and Sarah walked him to the car. Dean molded his body to hers, letting his body absorb her form as he kissed her again. "I love you, Dean Winchester." She said softly as he got into the car. She leaned in and he tasted her once more before she walked back to the door.

Both Sam and Dean watched her and when she turned to wave Sam said, "I can't believe my brother and Sarah McCain-"

"Shut up." Dean interrupted as he started the car and headed down her driveway as Sam smirked from the passenger seat.


End file.
